The Possessed By Dostoevsky Novels & Stories

In all the seconds she'd stared, he hadn't blinked once. 'But he's not possessed anymore.' Jess frowned, remembering Malus's words. 'Could he also be a psychopath?' She almost laughed out loud at her ridiculous worries. He was probably getting used to being himself again. These things might take time. Who knew? Jess didn't claim to be an expert in demonic possession, having only dealt with one.

Somehow, impossibly, she was innocent. Deimon's shadow, immense and suffocating, engulfed her small form. He seized her chin, his grip bruising, forcing her to meet the icy fury in his eyes. His touch, once professing love, was now pure possession, a stark violation that made her stomach turn. "Who was it, Anna? Who dared to taint what was mine?" The possessiveness in his tone made her skin crawl. She wasn't a person to him anymore. She was property. Damaged goods.

The snow still fell outside the stone walls of the estate. It blanketed the estate in white silence, turning its violence white and its shadows soft. But inside the Dostoevsky household, nothing was quiet. The attempt on Andrei’s life had ignited a fire in the house—one that would burn slow, subtle, and deep.

Well, if he didn't explain himself to that dickhead of a cousin he had, then there was no doubt that he would be faced with endless teasing, one that he hated with his life. "Yes, I was supposed to find a red hair." He admitted and took a seat on the couch. Out of irritation and anxiety gnawing at his heart, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lighter, immediately stuffing one of them into his mouth and lighting it. "Care for some?" He asked Dante who kept watching him with disgust written all over his face. "That there is a sin against God, I'm sorry but I can't take it." He said directly and everyone just gave him a bewildered look.

Even if Damian was gentle but he still was a mafia boss and evilness runs in his veins like blood, he has his other side too which people feared. 'Why do I feel like this possessiveness is going to become toxic' She shook her thoughts aside and took a deep breath closing her eyes. "Let's go, we need to take a shower..." He said normally like he didn't talked like a possessed man before. "You can go first, I need some time for myself..."

He pushed the door slowly, took a long, deep sigh, and looked at himself in the mirror. "Huh! Those girls are such leeches! They have been holding my arms, for pete's sake!" He narrowed his eyes, splashed the water to his flawless face. It had to calm him down, and he came back to his senses after a long, long time. "I need to convince Dianna to be my assistant! I need her beside me," However, as he looked at his reflection for a couple of minutes he saw the beast within him. He had to stop it or he would evolve into a wolf form.

"You are my possesion. Whatever I want I get" His voice boomed with power and authority. I was confused. I had no qualities. I was not an American top model, I had no status or cliche I would even compare my self with with a distinct fashion designer because she wears designer clothes but he choosed to own me. Someone with baggages a person who has burdens, someone who had nothing concrete to give a man like him even though a man like him had everthing and yet he choose me.

His touch was rough, desperate, trembling with an insane kind of possession. "Say it," he growled lowly. "Say you're mine." Duaa's chest rose and fell rapidly under him. She could feel the raw madness radiating from him — the kind of darkness that could drown her. Fear clawed at her heart, but still — the tiny spark inside her, the fire that made her Duaa — refused to die. She narrowed her teary eyes slightly at him, her voice trembling but laced with that stubborn sass he hated and loved.

I murmured to myself, my voice low yet resolute, the words solidifying my resolve. For the first time since my arrival here, I felt a flicker of belief ignite within me. Tonight wasn’t just another night. It was the night I would reclaim my freedom. … … . Damien's Mansion: Damien's POV The air in my study felt suffocating tonight, heavy with unresolved tension, as if the walls themselves could feel the storm brewing within me. I stood next to the expansive window, gazing into the inky blackness of the night sky—a vast expanse that seemed to mock my desperation. I knew the answers wouldn’t materialize in the stars, but I was resolute. My decision was made.

It was quite an enjoyable day. There were no other customers on the second floor, so Chase was the only one there. Rolfene quietly snuck out to sit opposite Chase. Chase told her about what he saw at the city lord's manor that morning and asked Rolfene, who was an experienced supernatural being, for her opinion. "She's obviously possessed, and it's in the worst way possible. It's a vicious kind of possession that will eat away the living being," Rolfene gave her opinion.